Red October
by darknightstalker
Summary: Five years after the defeat of Voldemort, Harry Potter has spent two years imprisoned by the Department of Mysteries. During a ritual to turn Harry into a living weapon, something goes wrong and Harry is turned into a creature not seen for millennia. Until someone entirely unexpected comes across him - 77 years in the past.
1. Prologue

Chapter One: A Shift in Fates

Harry had been in prison for nearly two years now. He didn't know where exactly he was being kept, just that it wasn't Azkaban – which was perfectly fine with him. The lack of dementors, the ministry had refused to stop using them to guard their prison, was the first clue. The second was the lack of windows/bars; Azkaban had tiny cells that were left open and exposed to the cold air and spray of water off the waves. Sometimes entire floors were flooded during the rainy season (even though it always seemed to be the rainy season there). His tiny cell was encased in permanent darkness with no windows to let even candlelight in – and with no wand, he had no way to bring light into his little room. A weaker man might have gone mad trapped inside the darkness for day at a time, but other men hadn't spent their childhoods locked inside a cramped cupboard. Harry liked to think this gave him an advantage over his captors.

He had been arrested from the Burrow by unmarked, hooded figures. The only difference between them and remaining Death Eaters was the lack of masks and their use of non-lethal "light" spells. Their intent had only been to incapacitate him. They hadn't had to at all though, as Hermione, Ron, and Ginny had taken it upon themselves to do that for the hooded people. They had the house to themselves for once and Harry had been planning on telling them about his decision to move abroad and study in France for a while. They had never had the conversation, and he had the distinct feeling that the conversation had never been meant to happen at all. That his once trusted friends had called him over _because_ their family wouldn't be home in time to stop them.

Harry had gleaned that the reason he was here was because the ministry feared him. His captors – he now knew were Unspeakables – had been tasked with finding out how Harry killed five years ago Voldemort; whether he had stolen magic from murdered wizards to do it, or if he had stolen Voldemort's magic. The theories were becoming increasingly ridiculous – but then they had discovered that Harry was unchanged in appearance since the day he had killed Voldemort. No scars stayed on his body, no muscles wasted away, no magic grew weaker. The only thing that changed was the hair atop his head – growing longer and longer due to lack of personal grooming (not by choice mind you). He was quickly becoming a magical anomaly and the Unspeakables were _very keen_ to find out what fueled his continued vitality. But now after years of no results, the Unspeakables patience had worn thin and something bigger was being planned. Something worse than Harry cared to imagine. So when the door to his prison opened to reveal Luna Lovegood – dressed in beautiful white robes with a long chain around her neck – Harry was shocked.

"Luna!" He had never been so sad to see her; so sorry that she had suffered so much and he couldn't have stopped it. He had no idea what was going on outside the hidden chambers beneath the ministry, but Luna's presence made it clear that things had gotten bad.

"Hello Harry Potter." She still spoke in her soft, lilting voice. She still had that faraway look in her eyes that she'd had in school – but somehow it looked like she was barely aware anymore. Like she had drifted away from the mortal plane. The door slid closed behind her as she entered his prison. A soft ball of light was allowed to float inside the room, so that they could see each other. And when the door was finally closed, Luna's eyes lit up with a fire Harry thought lost.

"You must say the Words Harry Potter. The Words are the only way to save you from your fate." She may be clear headed, but her words were just as muddled and difficult to understand as they had ever been. He remembered how she had come into her abilities as a Seer with her majority.

"What's been happening? Why are you dressed like this? What's going on?" He was desperate for news. "Teddy?"

"Andromeda took him out of the country when they arrested you. They've gone to America. He will live a full and happy life with his grandmother, knowing of you and your courage – but only if you say the Words and save yourself."

"What words Luna?" She looked suddenly sick, her face paling to an almost porcelain effect.

"I know their plans – it's why they took me. I Saw what they would do before they even decided to do it. It's pure evil Harry Potter. They have taken the ashes of a phoenix, and with the stolen blood of a unicorn, created a ritual that will bind you to the ministry. You will never die, but any order the minister gives you – no matter how despicable – you'll be forced to obey." Harry felt sick. Hadn't he done enough for them? He wasn't all that more powerful than Ron or Hermione, even Professor Lupin was equal to him in power, but it was him who would be forced to do the ministry's dirty work for the rest of eternity. The Ashes of a Phoenix were magical, and were continued to be as pure as unicorn's blood. To steal both and pervert them into something that would steal a person's life and will – it was indeed pure evil.

"What happened to you?" He needed to know what had happened while he was imprisoned. Perhaps it would give him one last burst of hope, or perhaps it would destroy what little hope he _did_ have.

"The streets are abandoned, the ministry has gone mad with power. Those who support you – or were once your friends have either been imprisoned for Sedition or have left the country. This place is a wasteland." Like Voldemort had never been vanquished. Like he had never even made a difference. "I was handed over to the ministry to be used for my abilities. I have no choice but to do as they order me."

The ritual was used on Luna. Sweet and gentle Luna who had lost so much in the war against Voldemort, but still had kept her innocence. They had ruined her. Harry pulled her in for a hug, and allowed her to cry onto him. He hated the world he had saved for doing this to the only pure person left in the world.

"You can save yourself Harry Potter." She whispered into his ear. "You can save us all."

The door to his cell was opened and Luna ordered out. Perhaps this would be the last time he saw her, perhaps this would be the last he would see of anyone before they took everything he had left.

* * *

The next morning he was dragged from his cell and given a warm bath. Stripped naked and touched by wandering hands, they cleaned him and cut his hair – shearing it shorter than he had ever had it before. They gave him a loincloth to keep himself somewhat dignified, and then led him to where the Wizengamot had once been held. The room was nothing like it had once been. Instead of the theatre of seats for residing Lords and Ladies, one large throne had been erected, casting shadows over the audience seats. The ministry had changed drastically. Though perhaps that was what he should have expected from what Luna told him. Where the chain covered chair should have been there was a large pentagram – painted in unicorns blood – and hoops of reshaped gold to tie a prisoner down. In the center of the pentagram was a pile of ashes, just as Luna had told him. This was it, the ritual that would be the end of him. Luna was noticeably absent, but perched atop the throne was Elphias Dodge, a man Harry had thought dead in the war.

"Harry Potter… How are you? I'm sure my Unspeakables treated you well?" Harry didn't deign that with an answer; too busy staring over the assembled crowd. Despite his exposed body, Harry didn't feel self-conscious at all. He was too busy staring at those assembled – hoping that one of them might feel guilty for what they'd done to the world he'd saved for them. Hermione and Ron stood next to the throne, dressed in wealthy robes and bejeweled with beautiful necklaces and broaches. They looked like pet's adorned with their masters most expensive jewels – mere collars and brands to mark them as his. He had never seen the betrayal coming, and that was why he didn't dare to meet their eyes.

"They were quite a surprise to me as well. But, with the promise to be the next minister for magic, and the next head auror, they both played along quite nicely. It's a shame that I couldn't get your pet werewolf's cub, but Andromeda was always rather crafty. But you'll hunt them down for me soon enough, and you won't even need persuasion." Dodge looked smug, and utterly bored at the same time. Like this was his due and he would get whatever he wanted regardless. Harry wanted to make him pay.

The Unspeakables bound him, arms outstretched, to the rings on the ground. The ashes sticking to his damp legs.

"Anything you'd like to say, while I still allow it?" Harry stared at the wall behind the throne, where a good man had once overseen the Wizengamot. Albus Dumbledore's portrait still hung against the wall, tucked behind the giant chair and obscured from view. He portrait was frozen, forced to stare at the atrocity that was being committed before his helpless eyes. And at once Harry knew… he was kneeling in the ashes of the once beautiful Fawkes.

"Albus Dumbledore trusted you. He called you a friend." He began, daring the usurper to challenge his words.

" _He was never my friend!"_ Dodge bellowed, leaning forward in the seat, fingers white against the obsidian throne he occupied. He looked wild, fueled by rage and desperation.

"He was a good man who changed the world with everything he did. He changed the world and made it a better place. And now, like so many before you, you are trying to be better than him. Have more power than him. But if there is one thing I've learned, it's the power of love and generosity and the ability to have mercy."

"Begging now Potter?" Dodge sneered, his face once more composed into a blank mask, but his eyes betrayed his fear. Dodge was afraid of Harry's words, but he had no power to silence him yet.

"No not begging. Not for mercy, anyway. I'm begging for everyone here to remember what you would have lived like under Voldemort," the room gave a massive shudder under the name of the Dark Lord that had been vanquished almost five years ago, "and now think of what is being done here today. Remember that when this man terrorizes you. Remember that when you wish for someone to save you. ' _The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord_ _is born as the seventh month dies._ ' Remember that. Because you might not be so lucky this time." When Harry had finished talking, he gave one last glance at the audience and then turned to Dodge. The man was smirking; his eyes alight with confidence and surety. But he still looked uncertain and small to Harry. He was a man who thought his time had finally come, but a threat was still lurking behind every corner. He was white as a ghost, smiling through it all.

"Do it!" He commanded. The Unspeakables approached the pentagram, one with a gag to silence him.

"No. Let us hear the hero scream." The chanting began. At first Harry felt nothing, then sudden fire. Burning him inside out. It was pain beyond pain. Then he felt the chains begin to tighten around his soul and around his mind, clouding over it and making everything less clear. The chains binding him to the twisted and ugly light of the man before him. For a moment he despaired. This was the end of everything he had fought for. That there was nothing more for hi to do but accept this new twist of fate.

But something deep inside him rebelled. Something began to rear it's head, and through the pain Harry _refused_ to accept this. This was _not_ how things would end. And suddenly he knew what to do. He knew how to take control back, how to save himself.

" _Ut det mihi magicae potentiae ad populos iudicabunt me raptoribus. Et quod omnia accipe._ (May magic grant me the power to bring justice to my captors. And give all that they would take from me.)" He could feel the shift in power almost as soon as the words left his mouth. The burning grew worse, and Harry realized the severe miscalculation both Dodge and he had made. But he had no time to dwell on it as he heard a shriek of inhuman rage before he was pulled into darkness.

* * *

 **TBC**

 **A/N: Yes. I know… Another new one. I don't have another chapter for BoS, but I do have a direction for it. So that one will be either this upcoming Sunday, or earlier depending on how my week goes. I am hoping to give you all a new chapter for all my works (except abandoned or finished ones – duh) for Easter, but maybe just my main three (BoS, AW, and HR). I hope you enjoyed this one, but this won't be getting an update until I have another couple chapters done, and I get the next chapter for Harem up.**

 **Thanks for all the support,**

 **DNStalker**


	2. Chapter 1: A Death And A Mystery

Chapter 1: A Death and a Mystery

Theseus Scamander was an auror and he liked his job. He was proud to wear the badge and don the cloak that symbolised him as a protector of the innocent and upholder of justice. Newt always laughed when he self justified himself like that, but it was never a cruel laugh. Today, Newt was supposed to be coming back from his trip across the country to meet with his publisher, and Theseus would have rather been waiting at home. Instead he was on a stake-out. The Aurors office had been planning this raid for months and Theseus had insisted that he would be there. A small group of failed Unspeakables had joined Grindlewald and were conducting experiments on magical creatures in order to create an unstoppable army. So far nothing had come from it, but not even the Ministry was willing to risk their success. Unfortunately word had reached them that a wizard had been taken, and that had quickly sped the investigation along.

Newt wouldn't be happy that creatures had been mistreated and tortured for a wizard's war, but Theseus had kept him in the dark. This raid, however, had the possibility of turning up hurt or frightened creatures – which in turn meant Newt would be needed. He was well known in the Aurors office, and very well liked by everyone Theseus worked closely with. They tended to call for him before any of the ministry approved "Beast Handlers", simply because he could help them recover and be released again, and he rarely gave up saving any creature that was found injured or frightened half out of its mind. This time though, Theseus wanted nothing more than to keep Newt abroad and away from whatever horrors lay inside the rundown Manor House of Nickolas Alderby – the assumed ringleader of the Undesirables.

The auror team had been waiting just outside of the ward-line and hidden in the foliage surrounding the property for almost eight hours when the signal finally went off. Quickly striking, the ward masters tore down the wards protecting those inside and erected those that would keep them trapped as the raid team slammed through the doors. There was screaming and curses fired, a few unlucky souls tried to apparated out and were flung back into the manor house violently.

"Search for survivors!" The fighting wasn't over yet, but they needed to save as many as possible before they were be exterminated. A small team followed the stench of blood and the foul feeling of dark magic down into the bowels of the manor house – Theseus led the search and rescue, eliminating any who stood in his way. The root cellar had been converted into a makeshift dungeon with ward circles functioning as cells or animal pens. A few creatures Theseus recognised and many that he didn't were shoved carelessly into them, over stuffed and almost suffocating pressed between other foreign bodies. Many of the creatures were dead – piled up and rotting. He gagged, but skilfully rebounded a killing curse, retaliating with a ' _stupefy'_. The raid above them had slowed down and was nearing the end, only a few still resisted. Those that had guarded the cells had been easily dealt with and were now being rounded up and taken to holding cells. They would be processed and tried before being transported to Azkaban.

"Scammander! We found something!" He had been slowly going through the rather extensive collection of forbidden and controlled substances that the Grindlewald sympathisers had kept, very detailed in their documents. A large book had even kept records of which substances were taken from which creature, when, and how.

"What is it?" He hoped it was the kidnapped wizard.

"Adrian Golby – the kidnapping victim. And something else." There was a moment of utter panic. Adrian Golby was a half-blood in Newt's year – a friend of a kind. To no one's surprise he had vanished off the face of the earth after graduation and no one had heard of him until he was taken outside of Borgin and Burkes. His last purchase had been slug repellent. If only his body had been recovered then Newt would be inconsolable.

"What else?" He made his way towards the very back of the cellar, following his subordinates' voice. At the very back of the room was a large ritual circle. And inside it…

"As you can see sir… we don't know."

* * *

 **Two years after New York**

Newt was in his barn when the owl came. He had arrived back home almost an hour ago in high spirits, his book had been a major success and Wiggers Publishing House wanted to do a second edition with more information and new creatures. He had managed to push for the Obscurial to feature in the book, as a nod to his friend and apprentice – Credence. Credence – the little bit of him left – had stowed away inside Newt's case. He hadn't ventured further than the shed inside the case, but he had heard the beasts on the other side. Newt had found him almost two days at sea when the young man had finally begun to piece himself back together. It had taken months of work and often Newt wondered of Credence would _ever_ trust a human being again. But the abused young man had found solace in the company of creatures, much like Newt himself had when the bullying at Hogwarts became too much. They had worked together for the months that it took to cross the Atlantic Ocean, and Credence was mostly corporeal by the time they were in sight of England but still wary of anyone but Newt. It had been Credence who asked to learn more about Magic and the creatures that Newt had rescued. The budding magizoologist had been a bit concerned about allowing an untrained - not to mention potentially dangerous – young wizard in contact with his creatures and their magic unsupervised, and then the creatures that came to him injured and scared. A frightened wizard was not compatible with a frightened animal. Both would lash out to protect themselves, except the wizard tended to lash out longer, and more ferociously. But by the time they had stepped foot on British soil again Newt had changed his mind. Credence was a very bright and eager student. He didn't have quite the same instincts that Newt did, but he had a gentle hand and the creatures were calm around him.

Credence had since proved himself to be a very capable apprentice and a very eager student of both magic and magizoology. It had taken a while to make sure Credence wouldn't be arrested for setting foot on British soil illegally, and helping him get past the soul crushing fear of magic was still a daily struggle. But Newt had found a very steadfast friend and loyal student in Credence Barebone. He had left Credence in charge of his creatures and the barn on his families property while he had been away.

The owl found Newt in his barn, but it was Credence who found the owl.

"Mr… um… Mr. Scammander?… You… you have an owl?" Credence held the parchment gingerly, like it was a delicate egg between his fingers.

"Oh. Thank you Credence." Newt took the letter just as gently, carefully pulling it out of Credence fingers like he might break it. With gentle but sure fingers he flipped the parchment open. "It's from Theseus. I've told you about him haven't I? He's -"

"An Auror for… for the … m… ministry." Credence gave a small smile, the one he always wore when around one his favourites. Newt smiled back, just over the parchment, his eyes flitting from the words to his apprentices face.

"Yes. Exactly. Theseus had a raid. He's probably just making sure… there's… enough… room…" Newts eyes furiously scanned the single page his brother had sent, hoping that his brother was wrong, mistaken somehow. That the raid had not recovered Adrian Golby – a friend of sorts during school – and a number of mangled creatures. He had expected some injured kneazles and krups, or even a few of the more dangerous breeds, those with magical properties.

"We have to go. Grab a kit and your wand. We're going to need it." And suddenly the man was a flurry of action. Books and Potions flew in and out of the open case seemingly at random, but Credence knew better. Everything Newt did, he did with the intention to help the magical creatures muggles and wizard-kind had abused. He had written the book on every known species, and several books on the unknown ones as well. Whatever Theseus had told him Newt was anticipating a bloodbath. Over the two years Credence had been with his master and friend, he had only seen one instance of what Newt considered a bloodbath. A supplier of magical pets to a well-travelled store in Knockturn Alley had been targeted by Hit-Wizards, almost every creature had been killed in the crossfire. Newt had scoured the site for survivors, only ten were recovered, and only three survived their injuries, one was even permanently damaged. Eyelock the One-Winged-Snidget lived in Newts barn, and often accompanied him into the house. The poor bird had been traumatised by its ordeal and for a short time would only allow Newt anywhere near him. If this was anything like that raid, Credence feared for Theseus Scammanders life. Newt had raged at his brother for nearly two hours after the fifth rescue had perished due to the injuries, he had even thrown him from the house in a sight of almost uncharacteristic rage. They had long since made up, but Credence had seen the side to Newt that had confronted Grindlewald himself, the side that had begged for his life and the life of a little girl, the side that had been hidden from the world and had no-doubt turned most of schoolmates away. Newt loved creatures furiously and selflessly and completely.

"What's going on?"

"Theseus said they found a creature that no one can identify. He needs me to identify it." In other words, lie and say it is entirely harmless when not provoked until it was far out of reach by Auror or Ministry interference. "Come along Credence, we have a portkey and we can't miss it. The man doesn't understand that I need time to sort out space for any new ones and make sure I have enough medical equipment."

* * *

The portkey was a dizzying experience and Credence realized why most creatures hid or were violently sick afterwards. Newt himself preferred to apparate or floo whenever he needed to get somewhere. Beyond that though he used muggle transportation. It had dropped them just outside of a large manor house, something Credence had never seen before. Newt hastily explained that most of Britain's purebloods were from very _very_ old families – which meant that they had more money than they knew what to do with.

A man in dark red robes greeted them at the gates.

"Percival Shrode, Fifth Captain and master of charms on this raid. Your brother is downstairs Mr. Scammander, a pleasure to work with you again." He greeted amicably, speaking rapidly as he lead them through the house and towards a gates stairwell. "We raided them earlier this morning, Beast Wranglers found almost sixty dead carcasses from Owls, Rats, Kneazles, and even a few muggle pets. The really hard stuff was kept in the back. There are fifteen dead creatures so far, some mangled beyond belief. Theseus had us remove them before you got here sir. You'll be happy to hear that most of the animals that were kept as stock are alive and unharmed, mostly just frightened and a bit underfed. We've been instructed to leave them to you."

"What about Adrian Golby?" Newt asked softly.

"Alive, shaken up. He's been taken to St. Mungos. We don't know exactly what happened. We think it has to do with the creature they found." This was what had been stumping Newt. Theseus had grown up around magical creatures just as Newt had. He should have been able to identify this mystery creature based on size and attributes.

"Thank you, Shrode." Newt nodded to their guide, politely dismissing him. The auror bowed slightly before turning back towards the house.

"Oh! Mr. Scammander… We think, whatever this creature is, that it might have been a human." Newt looked vaguely sick, but thrilled at the same time. He had never studied humanoid creatures. Werewolves were too dangerous to get close to, Veela extremely private, trolls and giants were out of the question, and the merfolk were just too secretive and distrustful. But Newt had always said that Humans were the most dangerous creatures on the planet. When trying to create an army, why not try and add something so violent and vengeful to the fix.

"Thank you." And they descended downwards.

Credence had always thought he knew what a dungeon was. A bare room with tiny windows, a scary warden guarding the only exits, a place where punishments were meted out regardless of their reason. He had thought he knew how vile such a place was. Until he descended into the pit beneath the manor house. There was no light at all, bar that coming from Newts wand. Credence focused on the tiny light and prayed that he wouldn't fall. When torchlight slowly became visible again Credence realized he had been holding his breath, and he released it quickly. There was a dungeon beneath the manor house, an honest to god dungeon.

"Are you ok Credence? You don't have to come with me."

"No." He licked his lips nervously, "I'm alright. You need my help." He didn't know if he was reassuring himself or Newt.

The walls of the dungeon were cold and damp and Credence wondered how he had ever confused the New Salem church for a dungeon. There were bloodstains where creatures had been kept prisoners, a few torn feathers and scraps of fur were mixed in small pools of blood that hadn't been cleaned away yet. He could only imagine the horrors that had happened here. Newt was no doubt having a difficult time of it.

The aurors weren't difficult to find, they were taking any samples and cleaning up the remains of animals the further along they got. Credence had only met Theseus twice before, once when he arrived in England for the first time, and again when Theseus asked for Newts help on a case with a very frightened creature. He may not have met him often, but Theseus Scammander was very memorable. He looked like Newt, if the magizoologist wasn't a twig and had some sense of popular styles. The auror was tall and and his long hair was tied back in a messy ponytail. He was handsome in a rogue-ish, wild sort of way.

"Where is it Theseus?" Newt never wasted any time when it came to his creatures.

"This way. It's… it's like nothing you've seen before Newt."

And he was right. Inside a pentagram was a large ball of feathers, talons, and skin. Credence couldn't make heads or tails of it.

"It has wings. We're just not sure _what_ it _is_. Jauncey thinks it's human. Or that it was." Newt stepped closer to the pentagram and the creature shuddered, hoping to get away. The wings – for that was what Credence assumed the feathers were a part of – covered most of the body, hiding it from view. The creature had very large wings, some of the beautiful flame coloured feathers had spilled over the edge of the magical cage its captors had conjured. The runes on the floor that encircled the creature looked like gibberish to Credence.

"It's definitely an incomplete transformation. It's like they tried to merge a bird of prey with a person. Sloppy work, incomplete, they were probably trying to…" Newt froze. He circled the perimeter of the rune circle again, then again, his eyes taking in every detail of the massive beast.

"What?" Credence couldn't help himself. His master looked a cross between confused, mystified, and overjoyed.

"I don't know. It's… things like this don't just happen."

"Is it safe?" Theseus pressed.

"I don't know. But If it was human, he's probably scared. Doesn't know what's happening. Doesn't know what they've done to him." Newt looked at Credence then, almost like he was speaking to them both. "You need to release him."

"If we don't know what it is…"

" _Just let it out!"_ Newt blushed. "Sorry. Creatures don't like to be caged up like this. It only makes them lash out."

After a moment Theseus nodded and gestured for the ward masters to release the spell.

Credence felt the barrier fall. Whatever had created that barrier was powerful, but what was behind it was ten times that. Credence felt the magic fill the room. Seconds later the creature leapt from the circle. Giant wings beating furiously against anything that got in its path. It was a ball of pure power and destruction, a feeling Credence remembered well. Wizards shouted and ducked for cover, trying to hide from the furious beast that had been let out. Credence could feel his fear rising and in a moment of pure terror he changed. He was no longer corporeal. He was that _thing._ He felt the fear and the anger twice over – almost worse than what he had felt back in New York and swore he would never let himself feel like that again. The creature charged him, and Credence caught a glimpse of green, glowing eyes. He fought back.

Before he knew it, Credence was sitting in a pile of rubble, the room practically destroyed around him. He was solid again, and the wizards were slowly reappearing from wherever they had taken cover. He looked around fro Newt, hoping he hadn't hurt the man who had taken him in. But there he was, cautiously approaching the shivering ball of wings. As Newt grew closer, speaking softly and moving slowly, the shivering lessened and the wings parted.

Hidden behind the wings was the body of a man. A very beautiful – almost ethereal - man.

* * *

The ritual should have been the end of it. With Albus gone, Voldemort dealt with, and the Unspeakables under his command, Elphias Dodge should have been hailed as the new Lord of Britain – the new King of the wizarding world – with a loyal soldier at his side. Harry Potter should have been his loyal pet, kneeling beneath his feet and hunting those who ran or rose up against him. He wouldn't have tortured the boy much afterwards, just a few reminders of who he belonged to and maybe even some brands to symbolize it. Men like Potter needed to be reminded everyday that their lives were no longer their own. And who knows, he might have put the mouth that had so loved to spew rebellious remarks to better use. After all, even after the many months of starvation and torture, Potter had always been handsome.

Weasley and Granger had assured him the ritual would work – he had even tested it on the seer girl, Luna. It had done as promised, the Seer was unable to disobey them and many an uprising had been prevented before it had even been a concept. The Weasley Twins had been particularly hard to stop from their eventual crusade against his regime – a crusade that would have meant the end of his power and the destruction of everything he had worked for. He had been forced to stop them in a more permanent way than usual. Young Ronald Weasley didn't even know what had truly happened to his brothers. The gullible family just believed they had run off to America. So easily fooled and manipulated.

Hermione Granger had been ambitious for her age, and far too trusting of authority figures. She hadn't been like the Weasley boy. She had required more persuasion than just a position in the ministry she had salivated over since she understood what it might mean for her kind. She had required a more subtle hand. He had promised her something she had wanted for a _very_ long time. Acceptance. If she stood by him and supported him, she would never want for friends, or a place to call home. She would have more knowledge than she had ever had before, and more freedom to practice what she knew. She had come up with truly ingenious things during her spree of research and newfound academic acceptance. She would have made a truly formidable Unspeakable if she didn't have her own thirst for power. She had even invented a small little band that inhibited the use of magic when clipped around a wand. A useful little trinket that was now used on ever wand of every known non-supporter.

"What happened to him?" He demanded, shouting at his scrambling Unspeakable's.

"He used the words." His Seer murmured, her expression like someone in a daze.

" _What words_?" He hissed in anger. She only tilted her head, like a bird looking for a threat. " _ANSWER ME!"_ In his anger he threw a hex at her. She tumbled to the ground, beautiful blonde hair flung in disarray.

"He will save the world again Elphias Dodge. _The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord_ _is born as the seventh month dies. And he will have the power the Dark Lord knows not. For his is the voice of magic, and his blood that of a phoenix. Born and reborn the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord_ _is born as the seventh month dies._ " A true prophesy. Spoken again about Harry Potter. Dodge screamed in rage, the killing curse leaving his wand before he knew he had spoken the curse.

Standing above the chamber of the Wizengamot, Elphias Dodge should have been pleased by now. His power was absolute and his supporters only strengthened him. But as he stared down at the blackened floor beneath the Seer's body, where Harry Potter had kneeled – chained and vulnerable – he only felt fear.

* * *

 **TBC**


End file.
